No idea who this Greenwald character is, but I am familiar with Dore.
Unclear at this time how you either imagine you'll be taken seriously or how one can be this bad at reading a room. tsk tsk
Attend me here, pate: you're past the worst of this, for your own part, and I believe you can take me at my word when I indicate... I take no real pleasure in the suffering of any of all y'all. Not singly, nor in groups.
However, I take great pleasure in my ability to gleefully indicate, WOW am I glad to not be any more involved in this bullshit than I needs must be. Gee whilikers.
Is the humiliation still public, when no one really knows what's going on? Beyond the obvious, that is. Because... Everybody Knows.
Note: this whingey, cringey Old Man is considered a National Treasure... to an ersatz “nation” of cowards, carpetbaggers, and self-cutters. I am of course referring to Scotland.
Just kidding. “Please leaf!” hu hu huhuhu. Now, I can't explain why this is funny... but as it doesn't involve Jews, YHWH, JVAH ,(sic) or Buddy Hackett Epsilon Theta, I don't really
have to explain.
This scenario would be playing out differently if we were in Italy. Then, a John Candy impersonator would have no choice but to pantomime a crippling, incurable, life-altering addiction to a particular RoA in a David Cronenberg film. Does he still make those? I'm legit afraid to the truth.
Like, oh so many of you are, these days. Now, let me assure you all... it's only another month or so. Events have not spiraled out of control, and appear to be working out EXACTLY as the UMCJ Primary Court wants them to, or whatever them fancy legal eagles call it.
I am not an expert in this shit, do not wish to be, never claimed to be, and still remain without access to residential drinking water supplies. That were paid for. Basically. I also no longer have an enchanted frog pond with a view of the poisoned swamp to my east.
This is fine. I'm not even complaining, really; and do I even know if I deserve to have an enchanted frog pond? This, I do not know.
I also do not care. I'm merely mentioning this in order to weaponize any leftover free radical irony... as this is a sarcasm-rich environment.
No idea who this Greenwald character is,
*cough* dude, fuck MY mother.
but I am familiar with Dore. Jimmy Dore is amusing,
I will say this: he's got
heart.
I occasionally watch a vidya by Mr. Dore & would probably try to go to one of his shows
But ... but... you're
balled.
if he ever did one in Kansas City.
Not only do I not believe you're there, it also doesn't matter. You're good. We're not at loggerheads. I ain't mad. Sure, some people probably think that you're either a big pussy sell-out and/or I'm “cheating” somehow, but it's all as simple as it appears — in spite of how I've ginned things up, without being at all obvious about it, in order to mildly /stealthflex.
First of all, I'm happy that I don't have to sacrifice our association, as regardless of how good of “friends” we have ever been, I would dislike anyone thinking that you and I have some kind of simmering rivalry, or barely quiescent beef, some kind of Simon & Garfunkel—·¡Sh patent hostility... because we don't.
I credit you with being an adult — you credit me with nothing at all. Absolutely perfect right now, because I am Clergy, and you are... well, none of my business, should be, I reckon.
Nevertheless, my lack of discipline and my genuine glad feelings as to how recent events have unfolded, combined with your Gift Of Music (ĪĪĪ) leaves me in a state of near-delirium!
I don't think I have to even hold my breath. I'm blue with blue skies, smiling at me. And, why?
Well, for one thing, I am pretty sure I put the collar on that queen h∞rmunch Jewel. Look, just because she's a magical pussycat and I love her, that didn't mean I was gonna let her have her way with things. She's a cat. I am a man. We are not the same.
Also: OMG, mad kitty! SUCH a bad kitty! To be captured by Yakuza spergcatchers! Or, whatever the fuck they call themselves. It's not like Jewel was gonna get to get ALL the revenge she wanted. Is she even a citizen? Pfft. She was a cat. And when it was assumed I was gonna be devastated, I didn't know how to front it all properly.
At the time, I didn't even know that knocking of each other's housepets was how certain *niche* sectors of society kept track of score, on the Clandestine DL. It's hard to believe, I know, but a lot of what's happened since Ambush #1 has been new to me.
And, I can see why. A lot of it seems ridiculous, but isn't. And the last thing anyone needs in the midst of their Very Important T.E.R.F. war is a spot of heckling by a bald white male.
I'm not really bald, but that's hardly the point. “Time for bed, Buddy!” /smdh like, as if. And, have I gotten an apology? Well ...
kinda.
I won't explain: not because it's a secret, I just think it's a confidential matter that doesn't need to be tarted up right now. Sure, I could. But, would it
blend?
I really do not want to find out; and I don't know how cool that joke is to make right now in public. I think, since I'm not leaning on it too much, and, I haven't been lying and swindling my ass off every day since the 90s, I will probably be okay, but nevertheless I don't wish to push the issue.
It's not about getting away with something. It's about demonstrating a non-vulgar display of power. Because I frankly never enjoyed being groomed, or lumped in with certain bourgeoise reprobate scum. Society has many layers.
Most of them have heard of me by now and nearly all of them hate and fear me. (
Scusi, mille regretie.) I myself very nearly count myself amongst their number. How can I not? Lodge orders is Lodge orders. “What was your name again?”
FUCK! YOU! MICHAEL! KUCZI!
Yadda-yadda-yadda, ffs already. It's been how many years? And your playbook consists of...
what now? oh my fucking God. I can see why into the woodchipper was a first-line tactic before. However... we can do better now. We have the technology. STILL CAN'T HANDLE A CONVERSATION, THOUGH, BUT THAT'S BECAUSE OF MY RAW, SAVAGE, BEASTLY CHARISMA, RIGHT? And that's why no hugs. Right? Fuck, I should have invested in having a V-8!
I am the most fortunate man alive... and I know it. (Clap your hands.) Additionally, IDGAF if I have any STDs or ever have sex again, because at this point, holy fuck, I don't think I even need one marble, let alone 9,999 more.
And now, as a gesture of respect to many, many people who shall continue to remain quite unnamed, I'll simply leave most of this at that. Sure, I've got content. Sure, I could do a little dance. Maybe, I could make a little love.
But if I got down tonight, I might never get up again. That would ruin so many birthdays, OMG! Fuck that noise. I'm really enjoying all this, as and I would hate to spoil things for any one. Least of all, for myself.
pate, you're a classy and mendastic nemesis. That means you have charisma to spare to run game on your herd of free-range trim, and you lie like a rug that really ties the room together. (Standards.)
That's okay. Most importantly: you have integrity, and I do admire the way you demonstrate that... when you FAFO and discover that it's your turn in the barrel. Or whatever your secret handshake idiom is. TBQH, I don't wanna know all these secrets.
Sow: I do not. Those are for ewe. Enjoy, Oinkerton Elite. Rest easy. I have done everything I can, and for another month or so, that's all I can do. Unless, of course, Grapefruit and her mysterious cadre of Secret Masonic Squad Spouses wanna call up my Google Voice voicemail and add to my archive. I doubt it.
Still — I am prepared for just about anything now. I only get one shot at this. There ain't no way I'm going to risk crossing the unspoken rules of genteel society, ever again, and never again well I be able to genuinely say, “what the fuck are you talking about, you crack-a ass dipshit white boy, I'M THE GODDAM PRIMARY VICTIM! STEP OFF, TUBBYKINS!!” or something equally tasteless.
It's not a joke. It's not a game to anyone. (Shooting fish in a barrel isn't a joke or a game to me either, but it sure looks like it's my favorite way to procrastinate a fap, eh?) What it is, is a very serious matter, being handled internally, and I have an established habit of using humor to lighten tense moods.
Not that guarantee I will always have a tongue and ten fingers, but,
SERIOUSLY: YE WERE WARNED. YE WERE ALL WARNED. Remember that all this really could have been hugely worse for everyone.
... which would have been okay if it had been just worse for me and my disposable fake clan drow “family,” right? Cozlik, not really citizens. And, so lazy. Hardly any contribution to the tax base. Et cetera. Honestly, I'm not even Jewish, so... I don't get to have drinking water? The Articles of The Convention Of Geneva... totes optional, eh? Eh? I should have just had a Fresca®™ poured on my head after Ted “Jedi” Knight to tousled mop. Which I don't have. Since I wear the tonsure. Which means...
well, which was it? Needle junkie? Addicted to glass dick? A lazy, good-for-nothing tax dodger? Was I The Falcon, or was I The Snowman? Y'all could tell, just by looking at me ... I was born to be used as a bound chattel slave. Eh? Eh?
Garçon! More Fresca®™!
*sigh* This is all hyperbole. I'm not even getting one (1) Orange Whip. I don't have to. I don't have to get anything at all.
However: I do get to. And, as a result... there will be those stuck on Permanent Seethe. I beeseech any and all, do not go that route.
And while I miss her plenty, we basically have no choice but to wait for a municipal court of a city I never think of and rarely visit to decide both when and which Grapefruit gets to call me. You know... on the phone.
I guess she's trapped under something
heavy perjurous, or something, and, holy Jesus jumping shite balls, what the fucking goddam hell am I supposed to do about this shit? Get a job? Be sober? Work on my six-pack abs? Pfft.
I didn't do any of that bullshit. Instead: I did something effective. And, perhaps, one day, I'll get to tell everyone most everything that I can. I'm the meantime... fucking sit and spin, El Smokey.
No warrant, no jurisdiction, no probable cause...No problemo! It's just the fat >K⁷7©‹z¡ZÎ brat, fuck that loser. No long game, no closing game, just push me off a cliff! INTO THE DRINK WITH THE FUNNY-EARED & EYEED SECOND GENERATION IMMIGRANT!!! I'm just kidding. It wasn't anything like that.
What it was like was what it would have been like if Gandhi hadn't been a goddam pussy and if his wife had actually been attractive. TO MALES. Was Mahatma Ghandi even a man? Pfft, no one cares. Thanks for fucking up Kashmir, you four-eyed squirt.
I'm kidding. And I'm doing this to shed a brilliant light on the power of pacifism. Sure, Gandhi was a massive, unrepentant fag — this is why his battle-axe of a wife arranged to have him blown away — but nevertheless, he used pacifistic functions doctrine to throw British rule off the whole sub-continent in a spectacular way.
They made a movie about it. They paid Ben Kingsley serious cash money to the run around wearing a toga. So, clearly a big deal.
I am no where near that big. I am not at all that important. And Grapefruit Alpha Prime never, ever, even for a moment, ever dreamed that I was ever gonna be good for anything. Okay, well: I was good for something. I still am. And any and/or all of you who expect to make money off of my efforts... well, you can go ahead and goddam bill me, you ratfuck ratfuckline ratfuckers. Seriously, learn to read the goddam lips: I AM VERY MIFFED. FUCK YOUR BRAND VALUE, BUDDY. TIME FOR BED? WHERE? ARK;
HAM;
ASYLUM? LOLOLOLOL!
Lots of people are outside your jurisdiction, Sir. I just happen to relish the inadvertently gained advantage. I do, indeed, hold the higher ground. What are you gonna do? Cry about it? Hang on.
* Jackstar has brought about copious weeping, without really enjoying it or being all that obvious about how being a literate citizen is a goddam bang-up job, even without getting paid, oh, btw ...
Maybe I'll pay my debts the next time I carve off a piece of the Grimgott’s iceberg. In the meantime: hey, fuck you, how about you stop stealing from me, wise guys? Because until I became the target of The New Apple Jack’n Pumpkin Pimping Punyling Gang, I was enjoying making regular payments.
And then ... well, I forget what happened, but let's just say, I don't like being thugged up on. So I guess it wasn't about keeping “quiet” or “teaching a lesson.” I currently don't know what the fuck any of it was about. However...
Y'all goddam know that I'm not some pussywhipped dopefiend, that's for goddam sure, and The Eye of Sauron can attest to that. (I really enjoy pretending to be one, however, because denial is an exceptionally powerful force when weaponized by a fat, lazy, smelly, uh... what am I again? Oh yeah: “owned property,” right? Oh, Massa! Tell me what to doooooo! Chain myself to a cubicle and solve the Y2K problem, eh? HA! Fat chance.
In a month I'll find out from a legitimate legal authority what I will get to describe any of that as. Fuck if I know, you dig? I have no idea what to say about any of it right now, except: “in a month I'll probably be informed who I get to be friends with, and in the meantime I live alone in a haunted church that got ransacked and balanced vandalized by uberthuggy bullies, so...
Take your sobriety and fuckin’ pound it, yo. Know: no interest continuing any drug-seeking behavior... unless it's gonna embarrass the shit out of several *key* individuals. Because, well, they started with the humiliation rituals... and conspired with each other to deny my civil rights. Ooh! Ooh! It was AN EMERGENCY! CIRCLE THE WAGONS! CUT HIS MIC! INVESTIGATE HIS WALLET! ET CETERA! Holy sweet Jesus. No wonder people end up offing themselves. What a pain the goddam neck this has all been.
For me, I'm saying. A pain in MY neck. And so: who's getting sober now? Who needs a 90d washout? Just me, huh? Everyone else, hunky-dory, now everyone get back to work! Right? Oh, literally just fucking shoot me, lol. (15 years of this? Yeah. Because the accused is guaranteed the right to be presumed innocent... while burning shitloads of money on black P.R. making me look like hot Bartertown garbage. Okay, fine. I still have no idea who that is, or was, and yeah: it's being handled internally. And I am, blessedly, not feeling suicidal. Not at all.
Sow: it wasn't complicated. You were simply hungering for my ass to get chastened, harshly ...as everyone was told I totally deserved. Harrumph. Who determined what I deserved? 🤔 Agree to disagree. This is just tilting at windmills. The truth is, no one can talk about it yet, and I have no publishing contract and yet i must scream.
Yeah. Cut my mic. Blank my channel. Ban my viral spread. That's fair, right? I don't have a real career to lose. I don't have a reputation or anything. Oh, no. I have not even paid my dues! (Dues are so important these days.) In spite of all this poppycock... I'll be alright. I won't be anything like the person I was before, but it's okay, no one really liked that one either.
Dear BMC: I am glad to help, and I look forward to a day when I may be allowed to know just what the eff was so hard about reading me in. Do I even get to know that? “Need to know basis!” okay. Well, no one needed to know how I felt, they just... greenlit the op. (I know I feel well-represented.) Are they done yet? Oh yes, not my business even more.
God love Court officials. I am grateful that this didn't get any worse. And if anyone wants to know why this has taken “so long,” it's because the job is actually getting done. What job? Shut up, Punylings. Go back to sleep. You had your chance to interact with me on my soon to be blacklisted debrief, Five Minutes With Jackstar, hey, is it time for my GoFuckMe to launch? Let's all email jack@trioptimumzDAwordPHAG and demand answers!! (Disclaimer: that was irony. Don't email anyone, race traitor scum.)
My high of choice is knowing that I can and did do what none of you thought could ever be possible, and none of you know what the fuck it even was, not to mention, know a thing about how this is all coming together. And, it's not my goddam job to explain it to anyone.
Yet. Maybe I'll be deposed next summer? IDGAF. Because this is all lots better than it could have been. For example... I'm not at all disappointed.
And, goddam it, I still love my friend pate. (I know you had good intentions. That's why I mocked you first.) I'm thinking of using all this money I'm saving by giving up smoking meeeeeeeeth (🤞) to buy him/her a third lamp. We'll see. A gift of light is a gift that keeps on giving ...
ILLUMINATED VIEWS. (Standards.) Anyway, it's not a joke, how the fuck can I hate this guy? Actual toddler. It's like a puppy l leaving learning to hit the paper at this point!
I'm kidding. This puppy needed to learn to miss the paper.

Sweet dreams, and have a pleasant tomorrow, OR ELSE, PROLETARIAT SCUM!!!! 💋👁️⚡⚡
p.s.·. someone blocked my cock and my money and my comms and I was supposed to... what? Weep and wail impotently? Nope, sorry, it's the other one
p.p.s.·. CAUGHT. O, YOU'RE WELCOME. IN L∆-KE§H, NAMASTμ
p.p.p.s.:. baby, can't we both look fat? Oh right: your abusive husband is a goddam orca. *sigh* Again: first date stuff Sweety.
p.p.p.p.s.:. Where I can take us, no one needs more money, and I would have had plenty of earnings by now. However: now I'm not in the goddam mood. What? Can't Spousey McFaglord sell some blubber to go with one of his/her/it's kidneys? Or is that against the law now on Tattooine in Jabba The Hutt’s palace. Grumble grumble grumble. Tell you what. Let's just wait a month.
p.p.p.p.p.s.:. Will that be okay, or is it another potential warcrime? I don't know who any of them are, but... as long as no one is forcing anyone to suck MY dick, I guess that's, like tradition. Or
whatevahp^6.s.: Thank you, Court. I believe we have an understanding here. Have fun gaveling in the Castle! GREENRUM.
RED-WALLED: For the learning impaired, the person that someone claimed to have “no idea” about ... well, they didn't have any idea about me, either.
THEY HAD ALGORITHMCALLY GENERATED STATISTICALLY PROBABLE PROJECTIONS ABOUT WHAT KUCZI, MICHAEL CLIFFORD WAS LIKELY TO DO.
NOW: THEY HAVE RUBBLE AND CINDERS. F.U., (BLANKED) - EWE AGENCY. NOW, GET BACK TO WORK.
You've got a month to persuade everyone to embrace teetotalism. Good luck, rape pred gang leaders.
I am a mother, and I always will be. You are ... well, unwilling to make eye contact while there's still 30 days left on the clock. Hey, here's an idea: call a time out and go huddle. You fuckers love to huddle, right? Then you can talk amongst yourselves about your secrets without having to go to the bother of using Podbean.
Hang on.
* Jackstar follows the law most of the time, but doesn't need to brag.
I simply get to, and not for much longer. And, still: no hugs. Let that sink in.
Adieu.